The Dawn of Freedom - Steel Vengeance
by TSCSupremeCommander
Summary: The time is coming when many shall know one truth: freedom. That time is not now. But, even as war and anarchy consumes much of the world, there are those who are arisen as champions in the annals of time. Although he has been through many horrors, one such man shall come to be a hero and shall do great things in the ruined lands of North America.


**Fallout: Division – The Dawn of Freedom**

**Steel Vengeance**

**Written by: CyberJordan** (on )

**Reimagined by:**** TSCSupremeCommander**

**Edited by: T'chazzar'sHalo**

**Author's notes:** **I am an amateur so please go easy on me, especially since I am a terrible writer and need a lot of increase to my literary and creativity skills. **Anyhow, I hope you enjoy… and maybe take a look at some of those sources below. I am sure the authors would appreciate it.

**Warning:** Not all of the following was directly included into the story.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any game studios, businesses, or the following sites. I am merely a fan of certain creative geniuses that I admire and desire to be as skilled as. Also, I might have missed a few peoples' names while utilizing their ideas.

**CREDITS**

**_Thanks for ideas and pictures to_**:

**First and foremost, Bethesda for the awesome, yet wacky, sci-fi extraordinaire that you unleashed upon the public!**

From 

1) CyberJordan for "Steel Vengeance"

From .com and .com

1) Elijah Houck for Alton, IL – Huge World and Quest Mod

2) Mancer for Mancers BoS Power Armor, Mancers BOS Recon Armor, Mancers Enclave Power Armor Pack, and Mancers Outcast Power Armor

3) DCPD for Brotherhood Salvage the Enclave

4) Shveet for EMM – Expanding Megaton Mod – open resource

5) Teacosy616 for Megaton Underground

6) Dracomies and SpaceOden for Fallout 3 Redesigned – Formerly Project Beauty HD

7) Raider201 for t-45d Reillys Rangers power armor

8) LethalThreat for The Sigma Squad

9) Miloz23 for MW2 Urban Camo Pipboy 3000

10) Retakrew7 for FWE – Colossus Enclave Compatibility Files

From Youtube:

11) AlChestBreach for the overloading amount of walkthroughs you have done for others viewing pleasure (except for the usage of foul, crude language, sexual innuendos, and God's name in vain, which you do excessively)

12) OLKshveet for Expanding Megaton Mod V1.5 GEN B.2 – Outside and Expanding Megaton Mod V1.6 – Inside

13) FrontierProjectXBL for Expanding Megaton Mod 1.7

14) Jonsport888 for A new different megaton with streets and outskirts and Amata's follower quest

15) The Tuninator for Mods of the Week

From other miscellaneous sites:

16) Fallout wikipedia for lore details

**Further Author's Notes:** This is a single story for a series that I am basing on my own Alternate version of the Fallout-verse. Now here's the story. You shall enjoy it… I hope.

**Chapter 1: Trouble on 2 home fronts**

**_Exodus 15:3 (King James Version) "_****_The _****_Lord_****_ is a man of war: the _****_Lord_****_ is his name."_**

_Life… life is ever changing. The adventures and actions of the Lone Wanderer forever altered the Capital Wasteland, and much of the North America east coast, for the rest of history. From the defeat of the Enclave at Adams Air Force Base to his duties in Elder Lyons' eastern division of the Brotherhood of Steel to his own personal quests across the land, every step of the Lone Wanderer resulted in the birth of legendary tales. Even when hundreds would exalt the great warrior, he would humble himself by aiming the praises at Someone far more deserving. Although he experienced an exorbitant amount of horrors, he had yet to meet the worst._

-**Capital Wasteland - February 2, 2278 A.D.-**

"Come on, you jackasses. We haven't got all day. Your new owners are waiting!" The gritty, booze-ruined utterance broke the numbing peace of the Wastes' natural silence.

The four slavers in ragged, leather garb had a nervous inclination as they stepped cautiously as the sun was setting below the horizon, and had good reason to be. The Capital Wasteland was not so tolerant of their kind anymore since the destruction of Paradise Falls and they knew it.

Trouble was that travel across the wastes hadn't got that much safer in the last year and it was painfully slow progress with a menagerie of eight worn-down slaves of regular and mutant lineage alike. They'd hoped to be at the more northerly Pitt train tunnel and home free by now. Due to a lot of rests and other problems, they'd only reached the Northwest Seneca station and didn't look like getting much further.

As it turned out, they wouldn't be getting _any_ farther. The scar-faced Asian-blooded slaver in the rear was in the act of kicking a slave who'd gone down exhausted when his head exploded into fragments of brain, skull, and bodily fluids.

The second of the less-than-friendly band, a dreary Caucasian, next to the first unfortunate chump barely had time to realize what happened when a second shot rang out and he was catapulted backward several feet to land dead on his back with a gaping wound gushing red ichor from his belly.

"Oh crap, it must be…!" A third shot literally cut off that sentence and the third brigand's head, leaving only the panicked, dark-skinned leader pointing his assault rifle in every direction of the dusty land… until a fourth shot blew his left arm right off, only leaving a bloodied stump.

"AAAHH… MY ARM!"

"Guess we can call the Mk. II Recon Armor a success then."

Agmund Alexander Daichi, the Lone Wanderer, turned off his black armor's stealth field a short distance away and replaced his helm onto a belt-strap. The partly messy, eyebrow length, wavy hair on his head glistened with its natural combination of midnight-black roots and their bright blonde strand tips. Furthermore, his semi-slanted shining blue eyes were chillingly brilliant plus the lightly tanned hide on his rounded yet pronounced Asiatic-Caucasian hybrid features, and him being at six foot tall, only worked in a grand way to display his more than average attractiveness.

Alex walked over to the awestruck slaves and started deactivating the cheap explosive collars they wore. The suit he currently wore was a cross between the Chinese Stealth Armor and armor pieces and systems from a suit of Advanced Power Armor Mk. II, and it was incredible due to the upgraded stealth field incorporated into it. Coupled with the helmet and skull paintjob, the wearer ended up looking like the grim reaper and it made Alex into a fearful sight to his enemies.

"Self-Righteous Punk!"

"Oh, you're still alive?" Alex spat at the slaver. "I thought you fools would have learned after what happened to Paradise Falls."

The slaver's eyes became dinner plates. "Oh crap..."

"You said it." Alex looked over the slaves, his eyes narrowing even further as he saw three of them were kids. "I'm sorry that it has to end in this regard, but you definitely won't hear me out."

The slaver didn't have time to scream before Alex's fifth shot shattered his head into bloody pieces. With a frown aimed at the waste of life, Alex holstered his .44 Revolver, Blackhawk as he turned to escort the freed slaves safely back to New Big Town.

**Citadel – February 3, 2278**

_GNR… Three Dog… all you need to know._

Alex had switched on GNR, the favorite radio channel for any self-respecting local, to help pass the time while repairing his armor and several other suits down in the somewhat rusted Forge of the Brotherhood of Steel's Citadel. The sore truth was that he was working his life away so he didn't have to think that much anymore. It might have been the best year the Capital Wasteland had ever known, but for him the last six months had been barely passable.

He'd not heard anything from his most-cherished friend Amata, or Vault 101, since he'd put her in the Overseer's seat, and Scrapboy had passed away in his sleep two months ago. Fawkes and Charon were living in Underworld and had their own lives to lead while serving the Brotherhood. Aside from his casual friends in Megaton and his comrades in the Brotherhood, he truly was the Lone Wanderer now and he was starting to let it get to him. Although he was constantly coming up with new designs and weapons for the Brotherhood, doing wonders cleaning out the Super Mutants from the DC ruins, and was the centerpiece of a major revival of the Christian movement both in the Brotherhood and throughout the wastes, it felt like his life had lost any sense of direction.

..._now I know that I've been a little light on news lately, but we all know who's responsible for that, don't we children? If Mr. 101 had never shown himself or simply didn't care, we'd be in one big mess. As it is we've got fresh water, a lot less jolly green giants, and best of all no more Enclave fascists._

Alex smiled a little at that. The one bright spark was that no one had seen or heard anything of the Enclave since he gave them a requiem at Adams Air Force Base. Either they had finally got the hint that their self-styled "America" wasn't wanted or they'd simply died out. Alex, not surprisingly, was hoping for the latter. He'd still held on to some resentment for the Enclave after what they'd done, and he wasn't sure when he would let it be.

"You're _still_ working down here?" The booming voice of a familiar individual entered the chamber.

"Yes I am, Sig," Alex replied neutrally without looking around, his own words sounding more along the lines of a teenager compared to his friend's. "And I'm going to be for a while yet."

Siegfried Lyons, Sentinel Sarah Lyons' brother and commanding Guardian over the eastern division of the Brotherhood of Steel's armed forces under their father Elder Lyons, sighed. The six foot one giant of a man had a rugged, slightly tanned face complimented with a strawberry-blonde mustache running along the upper portion of frowning lips, complete with a years' old reddish line given by a knife running down from the tip of his chin to the bottom of his thick neck. At the time, he had traded out his less-than-luxurious power armor for a casual white tank top, blue jeans, and combat boots attire worn on his bulky, hairy frame. "This isn't healthy, Alex. You can't spend the rest of your life fixing armor and being a one man police force for the wasteland."

"And what am I supposed to do instead then? You tell me."

"Try and live a little," Sarah interjected as she came in behind her brother.

As Sentinel, she mainly served as head logistics for her father's branch of the Brotherhood of Steel. Her golden-blonde locks waving in the wind, plus her loosely form-fitting black jumpsuit being revealed in the light. By appearance, she was only five foot five and smaller than most, but she was built with just the right shape with fine musculature alongside her tanned Caucasian complexion. Every syllable that came from her mouth sounded with gentleness, yet with the crisp excellence of her military background.

"At least take it a little easier. Rothchild might appreciate you slaving away down here and we all appreciate you killing mutants in the day. No one would even dare deny that you've given us quite a bit to think about with the Good Book. It's just that…"

"I know! Okay! Don't you think I know that? But I don't have anything else to do. And I don't think I'm ready to 'live' a little, as you put it, yet," Alex finished with that facing more in Sarah's direction.

Siegfried chose to add on, "Well if not now… when?"

Sig's question was gentle, but it hit hard. Worse yet, neither of the twins had much of an answer either. They both knew full well that the hometown hero didn't want to settle down any more than Sarah did. She was married to combat logistics duties, and Al was a warrior and wouldn't give up that role. Sarah also knew that he wasn't over Amata yet and was not interested in looking for relationships elsewhere. Given these cold hard facts, there were only one or two options left.

"I… don't know."

"Well, if you're not ready to live yet," Sarah took back over, "are you ready for a Nuka-Cola or two? You, Sig here, me, some of the Pride, and Paladin Tristan. How about it?"

Alex sighed indifferently. "I was going home after finishing this off…"

"Fine, then we'll have it in Megaton," Sig had caught on and his tone indicated that Agmund wasn't getting out of this. "Finish up, clean up, and then meet us topside. Consider that an order, Knight-Commander!"

Alex seethed inside as the pair of siblings left grinning. So much for a quiet night.

**Settlement of Baltimore Haven – Forty miles NE of the Capital Wasteland**

Baltimore Haven was well named, being the largest and safest settlement for miles around. It was unusual in a few ways. First it was huge: over three times the size of Megaton. It was built inside what was left of the west side of Baltimore, which hadn't been hit as bad as Washington, and had several intact pre-war buildings and apartment blocks inside its walls. The best part was the intact vault, Vault 99, located in the middle. In fact, most of the settlers were descended from the original vault dwellers.

Vault 99 had been a happy standard vault in its day and had operated just as the Vault-Tec brochure said it would. But upon opening the doors to a hostile environment, the vault dwellers decided not to explore too far. They'd simply repaired and developed the apartment blocks that remained and walled off the area with walls of rubble and scrap metal. Two hundred years later and the settlement was still intact and thriving. The vault's water systems still functioned so that was never a problem, and between home grown allotments and scavenging, neither was food. The only major threats in the area were Raider gangs and mutant fauna. But these had been less of a problem since the arrival of the settlement's newest residents: the two hundred Enclave troops that had arrived from the Capital Wasteland.

These troopers, led by Major Gary Houser, weren't exactly Enclave regulars. They had been considered misfits and troublemakers by the leadership, but this was not due to any lack of skill or loyalty to the cause. The difference was that they actually _cared _about the wasteland and its people, which was how they'd all been reassigned from the main division in the Capital Wasteland and sent northeast to Baltimore on scouting and fact finding duties. On finding Baltimore Haven, they'd been quick to establish relations and then spent most of the last nine months securing a new outpost for themselves there. All had gone well for the Enclave members and residents alike… until now.

Since three months ago, people had been disappearing from the settlement, just completely vanishing with no signs of a struggle or any warning. It had been subtle, only one or two people at a time, but it was getting worse and it didn't seem to matter how many guards got posted (whoever it was just got by them) or what sensors and cameras were put up (these were found to be hacked or memory erased). The total so far was sixty people abducted, including five Enclave.

"Still no response?" Belonging to the silver-haired fifty-one year old Major, the concerned question was accented with strong, clear American English.

It was only part of his controlled grief as his decently weathered, barely tanned skin pieced together with his strong Germanic features crinkled and he wiped the bottom of his face while scenarios ran through his mind. He had been pacing back and forth with his 5 foot 9 tall body on his good footing. Houser was feeling double his age as he headed for the vault entrance for a meeting with the settlement council and his officers.

"Sorry, sir. Still nothing." Answering in dispirited speech with her disciplined yet fiery feminine tone, Lieutenant Kayla Thomson wished she had better news. "I just hope Dan has a good report when he gets back."

With her curly, auburn hair in a regulation short-style ponytail and chestnut eyes in the midst of her creamy face, Thomson stood at 5 foot 7 with a lean figure and sharp Anglo-Saxon characteristics in her Enclave-standard black, grey, and brown officer's jumpsuit and Enclave insignia-emblazoned black cap. A drop of sweat made a line down the side of her visage as she waited intently.

"I hope so too. He's been gone too long as it is. Something must have gone wrong back there."

Desperate for news and reinforcement from the Capital Wasteland, Houser had sent his other main subordinate, Captain Daniel Kerrigan, back in one of the three Vertibirds he had at his disposal. He knew he was violating orders by doing so, but he needed more help here desperately, and after weeks of no replies to his radio calls, he decided he had no other option. The fact that he'd been gone a day and a half only increased Houser's worry. By VTOL, it only took half an hour to get to Washington from here. He was still pondering what to do next when one of his soldiers intercepted him.

"Sir, we've got a Vertibird coming in from the south."

Houser's heart lifted a little as he saw it was the one he'd sent out. It quickly plummeted again when he saw his Captain getting out of the Vertibird. Kerrigan's usually cheery, olive-pigmented face and smoothly set semi-Mediterranean descent was as pale as a mortician's.

"Dan, what happened? You're well overdue," Kayla beat Houser to meeting up with Dan. "Is help on the way?"

"No, no help at all." The raven-haired thirty-five year old Captain looked whipped as he said this.

"What? You're kidding me! You mean to say that son of a mutt Colonel Autumn's sending nothing?"

"There's nothing to send, Kayla. We're all that's left." Dan nodded his head at the box he was carrying under the left arm of his own officer's uniform. Both recognized it instantly as the "black box" data core from Raven Rock, the kind that was jettisoned for recovery in the event of a base self-destruct.

Houser's face was ashen. "Captain, you mean that we're…"

"…all that's left of the Enclave on the whole coast? Yes, sir. We are. We're also in the deep end, wouldn't you say?"

**Megaton**

Moriarty was starting to think Christmas had come early. In his tavern-inn building made up of scrap metals and other pieced together materials that were scrounged up years ago, the group from the Brotherhood, consisting of Knight-Captain Dusk (his soft Asiatic appearance downplaying his pure killing prowess), Paladin Glade (kindness marking his strong Slavic appearance topped with dirty-blonde hair), Paladin Kodiak (an appropriately named bear-sized African-American) Paladin Vargas (a nearly somber, 5 foot 6 white man), Paladin Tristan (a middle-aged and almost completely bald Caucasian), Guardian Sig, and Sentinel Sarah, had gone through two rounds of Nuka-Cola already and they didn't look like slowing down.

There was only one problem, at least as far as Siegfried was concerned: Alex was a no show at the bar. He'd come out of the Citadel without a complaint, went to his house to change clothes again once they'd marched into the city, and thirty minutes later still nothing.

_If he thinks he's getting out of this, he's got another thing coming!_ Sig thought darkly as Sarah stared at the door with concern.

The large, helmetless man in his own Hellfire Armor Mk. II was halfway to the door intent on dragging Alex there when he came in on his own. But he certainly wasn't in party mode as he was decked out in his suit of improved Hellfire Armor Mk. II and sporting his spread-bolt Laser rifle entitled the Metal Blaster. This made Alex look like he'd ascended straight from the pits of Hell. He'd taken his Hellfire Armor Mk. II with the emblazoned Brotherhood logo on the left shoulder along with the Rangers' insignia on the right and, for psychological show, he'd forged smooth bladelike extensions over his shoulder pads and down the front to his chest and from the elbows as well. Most Raiders ran clean away without a shot when they saw him in this suit.

"Alex, what are you…?"

"Sorry, Sig. Party's going to have to wait. I've got a problem I need to take care of."

"What sort of problem?" Sarah lightly asked as she almost skipped forward with the rest of the group coming over to join them at their own pace.

In response, Alex punched several buttons on his Pip-boy 3000.

THIS IS AN EMERGENCY TRANSMISSION FROM VAULT 101:

"Alex, I hope you can hear this. I can understand if you never wanted to see me again, but I really need your help. The Vault needs your help. We weren't ready for facing the outside world like you did and we need you again. The code to the vault door is now your name. The Vault needs a hero and, according to what we've heard on GNR, you are one. Please help us and come home."

Alex turned off the message as he faced downward while bobbing his to the right and the left with a sarcastic smile lining his appearance. "Yeah right… and I'm the next Enclave President."

"That _was _Amata, wasn't it?" Sarah asked starting to catch on.

"Yeah, but you heard her voice there. Someone was forcing her to say that crud, and given the way I left, do you really think she'd invite me back just like that?" Alex looked around for opinions and all he got were nods of agreement. "So I'm going back, but it _won't _go the way they think it will, and if they've hurt Amata or anyone down there…" Alex raised his hand and closed it into a fist for show as his expression was no less serious than the situation.

"Good thinking," Paladin Tristan smiled at the man he'd mentored and considered the best the Brotherhood had. "So what are we waiting for? Let's go blow something up!"

"Wait a minute… we? What do you mean, we?" Alex was momentarily taken aback.

"You're one of us, kid. In case you hadn't noticed," Vargas chimed in. "I don't know what things were like in that vault, but we look after our own."

The others joined in with similar phrases such as, "Too right!" and "Count me in!"

Despite Alex's protests, every single one of the fire team was adamant about going in with him. As he thought more about it, the more he liked it. Whoever was pulling the strings down in the vault was expecting just him, but what they'd get was him plus the Brotherhood's elite, which was more than enough to sterilize the Vault ten times over. Yes, he was starting to like this idea a lot.

Five minutes after collecting all their helmets and guns, they were on the dusty, slightly irradiated road through the Springfield ruins. To say the least, even Sarah with her fully-enclosed jumpsuit, upgraded with a suit of combat armor and a specially made combat edition of a gas mask, was joining them on this little op.

"What kind of resistance should we expect?" Tristan asked.

Alex scoffed. "Pathetic. Cheap vault armor, cheap 10mm pistols, old police batons, and a few aging shotguns. One or two of us could clean the place out without breaking a sweat. All that worries me is what's happened to Amata and the others in her group."

"Well since this is your turf and your friends are involved, you can lead this op," Siegfried suggested.

Alex stared at his best friend as though he'd gone completely bonkers. "Me in charge of the Pride?"

"Speaking for myself, I'd follow you into the gates of Hell."

Alex waited for objections from the rest of the group. He was stunned when there wasn't any as all of the others just stared at him in expectation waiting for his orders.

"Okay, fine. Helmets on. Let's do this!"

**Vault 101**

It was close to 21:00 when they reached the damaged, warped wooden plank outer Vault door illuminated in the moonlight.

"I'll go first, let them think it's just me, and then if there is any trouble we'll give them a surprise. Vargas, stay here in case of anyone trying to cause us some difficulty from this angle," Alex ordered coolly.

The first surprise, however, was that the main door was already open and the second was the heated argument that they could hear just inside. From what Alex could hear, it was that light-skinned, curly-brown haired Butch and one of the old Vault guards that he'd left alive during his escape, Officer Park, who still had his beyond-pale complexion and worm-like facial hair above his lips coupled with his brown comb over.

"...you always were the slow one, Butch. It wasn't Amata who sent out the signal."

"Then who did?" Butch's loud, obnoxiously provoking voice was unmistakable.

"The rightful Overseer, Allen Mack."

At that, Alex's eyes narrowed hard. Although he knew he wasn't all that popular in the vault, Mack was one of the few who'd outright despised him and his father. They didn't like him, but they couldn't say that they shared the same hatred he held for them. 'An overrated sycophant' had been James's description of him. Alex had no doubt the only reason Steve Mack had been allowed to join the vault guards was his father's boot kissing to the Overseer. This meant, as far as Alex was concerned, that Allen Mack was just as responsible for Jonas's death as Alphonse Almodovar had been.

_That numbskull thinks he can just overthrow Amata and lure me back into a trap? _Alex pulled the Metal Blaster from his back and primed it.

Mack was about to get a serious Capital Wasteland lesson that most had learned well over a year ago: do not mess with the Lone Wanderer and expect to get away with it with no consequences. The Enclave had learnt that the very hard way. It would be interesting to see how Vault 101 would do….

**Author's notes: **So, this is the first chapter in my first story for my very own Fallout Alternate Universe, Fallout: Division. Please, remember to review, leave some feedback on what you thought, what you think would be best, and/or what you would like to know lore-wise. I plan to post links to images for some of the more unknown items, such as the ex-Enclave Advanced Power Armor Mk. II, Hellfire Mk. II variant, for your viewing pleasure. May you have a blessed day!


End file.
